Dynasty
by Pampel
Summary: Samantha is the oldest daughter, princess of Andros, an heir to the throne. And when she's told she has to get married in a month her world crumbles.
1. Chapter 1

Her heels clicked loudly on the marble floor, but no guard raised their gaze. The grip she had on her dress tightened as she speeded up. If she could, she would raise the soft fabric above her knees and run wherever her legs would carry her. She blinked when her face began to get hot, she could feel the explosion of the sebum on her complexion already as if she needed it then.

When she finally reached the door to the palace garden, she was sure everyone could hear the beating of her racing heart.

When the guards opened the door for her, she raised her head high and stepped outside. A smell of white roses instantly hit her, and she felt suffocated. Sun shone so brightly her hair became a honey color - she preferred them that way.

Lucky for her, she was alone, and as she reached the alley designed by herself with baby-blue roses, she sank to her knees and let the tears slide down her rosy complexion.

Unbeknown to her, her light-pink dress stuck out among the flowers, making her easy to observe through particular windows of the castle.

And as a tall man observed her, his mouth twitched in an obnoxious smirk that would hunt her for months if not years.

Samantha had a very strict skincare routine, but even that didn't help her puffy cheeks after the sleepless night she had. Amanda came to her room at eight as always to help her dress, tie her hair, and put makeup on. She was the only blessing Samantha could think of that glumpy morning.

"Your Royal Highness, which dress would you like to wear today?" Samantha was well-known around her kingdom for her love for nature, history, and fashion. She recalled the time when her parents had allowed her to visit Heraclion's mountain range. When the darkness of night had settled above the hidden pension she had been staying at, and her guard had fallen asleep, she had snuck off to a local shop to buy a dress that would make her fit in. What she had ended up with almost made her mother faint when she saw it - the top was made of the softest wool, and looked exactly like a sweater except it was connected to a checked red skirt which back reached her hills, but the front barely covered her knees. Add leather moon boots, and suddenly she had been allowed to go wherever she pleased without everyone bowing to her.

She sighed, missing the smell of an old coffee shop with shelves filled with old books. She looked at Amanda with a sad smile, "I think it's better that you chose for me this time. I fear I could only dress in something so inadequate my mother would have me whipped."

"I am sure that is not true, Your-"

"Oh, please," Samantha waved her hand dismissively, "It's only the two of us here, and if I recall correctly, you promised to be honest with me when no one is here to use that against any of us." She could read the straggle from the frown that formed on Amanda's delicate face.

"Perhaps a green one?" The maid asked shyly, "It's been lying in your wardrobe, forgotten for so long. Besides, green is a color of hope." Samantha nodded slowly.

"It's a nice sentiment, but I don't think there's any hope left for me." She continued before Amanda begged to differ, "My mother will like it, though. She's mentioned something about being tired of always seeing me in pinks and blues." She offered Amanda a kind smile, but her eyes were still clouded with sorrow.

"Of course," Amanda chuckled, clearly relieved, and Samantha wished it would be as easy to foul herself as it was Amanda.

"Now, help me square my face away."

"What kind of makeup are we going for today?"

"Well, for starters we have to do something about my cheeks. I can't let them know I cried all night, yet, but other than that, I was think as natural as it can get, a tap of bronzer would be enough, and that changing color lipstick my aunt got for me. It always makes my lips look so healthily pink."

"I'm on it, Your Highness."

She had just had her nails done a few days ago, and she was already scratching the skin around them. If her mother noticed, which she most likely would, she would never hear the end of it.

Samantha shivered when the doors to the dining room appeared in her sight. She took a deep breath and raised her head high. Guards bowed to her and opened the door.

Everyone was already inside. Her father as always held a newspaper in his left hand and a cup filled with coffee in the right, not minding anyone in the room as long as their small talk didn't distract him from whatever article he was focused on. Her younger sister was keeping her head law, focusing on the salad she nibbled like a sparrow. Her mother, on the other hand, had a magazine in front of her, but Samantha was too far away to see what it was about.

"Good morning, everyone." She wasn't hubris, but she didn't care to smile, either. She walked up to her father, and having placed her palm on his broad shoulder, she leaned down to kiss his cheek.

He smiled and put the paper next to his plate. "You look lovely, darling. Is that a new dress?"

"No," she said, and an idea popped into her head as she took her seat, "But I was hoping to get a new one for the ball." That caught her mother's attention, and she looked up from her magazine.

"And since when do you want to have anything to do with the ball?"

"Since when do I not?" Samantha retorted.

"So from now on, should we expect you to storm out, whenever you are excited about something?" Her mother raised an eyebrow, no hint of humor in her voice.

"Let the girl eat her breakfast in peace for once, Ava. It's not every day she finds she will be married in a month to someone she hasn't even met yet. How did you expect her to react?" Samantha's father smiled at her.

"I'll ask Mrs. Telbour to come-"

"Actually," Samantha interrupted, "I was hoping, I could just go to her shop and pick up a dress that's already been made to make sure it's ready for the ball." Her mother watched her carefully.

"I'll arrange a carriage for tomorrow. After breakfast?"

"Thank you," Samantha nodded. When she turned her head, she noticed her father had already indulged in his newspaper again.

"You should take Audrey with you." Samantha's younger sister raised her head at the sound of her name.

"Sure." Samantha smiled, whereas Audrey looked mortified. _Tomorrow would be fun._

The carriage ride the next day was what you would call impossibly dull. Audrey and Samantha weren't exactly closed. When Samantha had been learning etiquette, ballet, or horse riding, Audrey had been picking flowers from the garden or drawing under a close eye of a babysitter. While Audrey was growing up, Samantha was traveling, meeting important people, attending all sorts of balls.

It hurt especially during Christmas season when Samantha would sneak out to watch the whole city glow in the evening with the Christmas decorations, and see families happy together. Or when it was time to open the presents and see Audrey disappointed once again. Samantha always felt guilty for not knowing what her sister liked. Despite looking quite similar, they had nothing else in common.

"So..." Samantha started, "Have you any idea what kind of dress you want?" Audrey looked a little puzzled at first as if she weren't sure if the question was meant for her.

"No, I... I usually go with the first one that fits," she confessed shyly, "Or whatever Mrs. Telbour thinks is best."

"Oh... Why is that?"

"Well, I don't really like fittings. And honestly, I also don't care that much." Samantha frowned_. If only, mother heard that... Oh, she'd be pulling her hair._ She could also feel that her sister was hiding something from her, but decided to let it slide. She didn't feel she had the right to dwell on that. "Do you?" Audrey asked. "Know what you want, that is?"

Samantha's lips turned up in a wicked smile. "Yes, and I think mom will like it a lot."

They remained silent for the rest of the ride.

"Is, Your Highness, sure that this is the right ball gown?" Mrs. Telbour was reedier than usual when she asked the question.

Samantha smirked as she stared at her own reflection. "It is absolutely perfect!" She declared at last. "Wouldn't you agree, Audrey?" Her sister could barely keep a straight face

"But of course!" She walked up to Samantha and whispered, "What are you doing?" Samantha continued to scan the dress she chose in the mirror.

"This ball," she spoke at last, "Is going to be the very beginning of my funeral. I might as well dress appropriately." Without sparing her sister a glance, Samantha turned on her heels to Mrs. Telbour. "How about we find matching gloves?" Seamstress nodded and scuttered to the shelf in which the gloves were hidden.

"Well, that was quicker than I expected," Audrey announced.

"When you know, you know." Samantha smiled. "I must admit, I really like the dress you picked out."

"I wish I could say the same about yours," Audrey teased as they exited the shop.

"You'll like it more when you see mother's reaction to it," Samantha sighed with delight. "Now, what would you say for a cup of tea? There's a great little place just a few minutes away from here. It has the most charming garden!" Audrey's eyes sparkled like the sun's reflection on the sea during sundown.

"Are we allowed to go?" she asked instead. Samantha frowned but turned to her maiden.

"It always takes us hours to pick out the perfect gown, and since today we have found one immediately, I'd say mother won't be surprised if we won't return for another hour or two."

"I'd even say it would be considered perfectly normal, whereas returning early might upset or spark needless confusion."

"Well, you heard Amanda. You wouldn't want to upset our mother, now, would you, Audrey." Samantha could swear she had never seen her sister smile so widely.

"I daren't dream of it."

And that was how, a few minutes later, they found themselves in a small wooden house, trimmed with bright flowers on the outside. Inside the hut was filled with paintings of sundowns at sea, glades with blue, pink or white flowers, and mountains.

Menu of that petite place was flabbergastingly huge. Samantha had managed to try half of what they offered. The thought that she would never get to try all flavors mortified her. _I only have a month left..._

"Which one is the best?"

"Huh?" Samantha looked up from her menu at the sound of Audrey's voice. "Oh,... Well, from the ones I tried, I'd have to say Romeo and Juliet, but it's a green tea, and I know that it's not for everybody. I think Cherry Rum is a safer choice."

"Rum?" Audrey's cheeks turned scarlet, and Samanta couldn't help but burst with laughter.

"You are so cute!" She shook her head with a tender smile. "Don't worry, there's no rum in it. It's just a name."

"Well, then cherry rum it is!" Samantha wanted to ask Audrey why she cared so much, it was not, as if they weren't allowed to drink. Yet, something told her she knew why, and that their mother had everything to do with it.

A waiter took their order and disappeared with the menus only to return a few minutes later with their teas ready.

Two of their maids sat across from them, giving them as much privacy as it was allowed by a protocol. From a few glances Samantha took at them she could tell the conversation they were indulged in was much more compelling than the one she was having with her sister. What a disaster!

"What do you think of your fiance?"

"Well." Samantha looked up at her sister. "I haven't met him yet."

"Seriously?" Audrey squeaked, and when she realized what she had done, she covered her mouth. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright. You should have seen my reaction when mother told me," Samantha blew a raspberry.

"I just... I suppose I believed that you must have met him, while you were traveling."

Samanta shook her head. "Not that I recall. I attended a few balls during my travels, met some very important people, princes included, but I do not remember meeting him."

"Well, if it's of any consolation, I've been hearing that he's very agreeable."

"It's not, but thank you." She smiled, but the weakness of the effort was visible in a glim of sadness that her eyes carried. "Well, what will you be up to when I'm gone?"

"Uhm... Since you'll be crown as queen, I was hoping mother would pay less attention to me."

"You're hoping for freedom?" Samatha smiled. Freedom sounded so nice. A dim memory of the past came to her mind when she took a sip of her tea. The liquid was still hot enough to lightly burn her throat - a burn she gladly welcomed.

"Yes," Audrey whispered as if she were ashamed to admit it.

"I remember when I was free," Samantha sighed, "Well, not exactly free, but the closest I've ever been to it." She could get lost in so many pleasing memories of her travels, but instead, she looked at Audrey, her eyes boring into hers. "If you're ever allowed that freedom, take it and never look back. That's what I should have done." She finished her tea, and their maids informed them it was time to return.

They paid and made their way out. Samantha was the last one to step out of the wooden house and she savored what could be the last glance she ever took of it. Her eyes watered at the morose thought and she blinked them away.

Amanda called out to her, trying to hurry her. Samantha sighed but followed her maid to the carriage. Every step she took, felt heavier and harder to make. The knowledge of her happiness being signed away began to taunt her.

_"For our people."_ Her mother's words rang in her ears, and as carriage's door closed she whispered, "For our people."


	2. Chapter 2

Samantha sat among her roses in the garden, when Janson brought her a letter. She took it from him, but only checked who it was from when he was gone. She swore she couldn't get a moment of peace in this place, and it was only about to get worse as the ball was three days away.

As if it weren't bad enough, her mother - as predicted - didn't let her fetch the dress herself, but instead, send her sister.

Samantha sighed. At least she knew Audrey wouldn't rat her out. She took a glance at the letter. It was from her future husband, addressed to her in beautiful handwriting. She daren't open it. Whatever he wanted could wait. In three days, she'd meet him, marry him soon after, so those last days, she would allow herself to pretend her world wasn't falling apart.

A single tear rolled down her cheek - she wouldn't let them squeeze more out of her.

"Have them prepare my horse," she ordered, once she was sure she had control over her voice. Her maiden nodded, curtsied and hurried off, leaving her alone in the garden. Once again, neither of them knew the princess was being watched.

"Hello, Bella." Samantha put her hand above her horse's nostrils. She had a bow and arrows resting against her back. "Ready to go, girl?" Bella nuzzled closer to her. "Good," she whispered and got on.

When the palace was no longer in sight, she loosened her hair. Bella cantered through the woods in a pleasant rhythm, and Samantha allowed herself to close her eyes and breathe in the scent of coniferous trees. Rays of sunlight managed to slip through tree crown, warming Samantha's features.

The forest had never been quiet. The wind carried birds' whistles, taps of hooves, and the rustle of the trees, creating a perfect symphony.

They rode through the familiar forest road, then through the lake, splashing water all around them. She was sure her mother would scold her later for getting the dress muddy, but she couldn't care less. In a few weeks, she'd be rid of her family, or rather her family of her.

She riched for her bow, having let go of the rails. After she'd attached an arrow, she pointed at a scarecrow she had found once upon a time and shot. The arrow cut through the air and hit the target's head. A smirk crept onto Samantha's face, and she riched for another arrow.

An hour might have passed when Samantha decided it was time to rest. She sat under a willow by a lake resting against Bella's side, saddle lying somewhere around.

Corners of her mouth were lifted in a relaxed smile, and she bit her teeth into her apple. Sweet and sticky juice ran down her reddened complexion, and she wiped herself clean with the sleeve of her blue equestrian suit. Bella whinnied behind her, and with an exaggerated eye roll, she gave up her fruit.

"Here you, pampered nag." As if Bella understood, she snorted but ate the apple in one bite. "Now, now, you know, I love you." She caressed her neck.

The soft wind coming from the lake nipped her features, the sun was beginning to hide behind the horizon, the sky turned pink with a hint of orange, and Samantha knew, if she didn't head back soon, her mother would send the whole army to find her.

She saddled Bella and harried home. Another day of her freedom has passed.

On her way back, she collected all her arrows, so by the time the palace appeared in her view again, the stars were already gracing the navy sky. She left Bella with one of the stablemen and hurried inside. On her way to her room, she could hear her mother's heels clicking against the marble floor.

Samantha swallowed the lump in her throat, raised her head high, and allowed the guards to open the door for her. They barely had a chance to close it behind her, when she was being yelled at.

"Where for the grave of King Henry have you been?!" Samantha was sure her mother's voice echoed through the whole valley.

"Can't we just call him grandpa, when no one is around?" she sighed.

"That is quite enough! You are forbidden to leave this room until the ball!"

"You mean until you are rid of me," Samantha stated, venom sipping from her tongue. "Besides, what do you intend to do? Lock me in here? Father would never allow this!" she mocked.

"Bold of you to assume he'd even have a say."

And with that, Ava slammed the door behind herself. The sound of a key being turned in the lock echoed in Samantha's ears, and she rushed for the door.

It was too late, she had already been locked in. That didn't mean she didn't put up a fight with the handle, didn't bang on the door, and screamed. Despite all the effort, no one came to rescue her.

She slowly sank to her knees. Her freedom was gone sooner than she expected, and she wished her mother would slash her throat instead. Not that she was being dramatic.

She woke up next morning to the sound of her own belly rumbling like crazy. Her face was puffy from the tears that put her to sleep a few hours before, her hair disheveled. Her back hurt from the night spent against the wooden door, and she decided she would spare herself from looking into a mirror.

Samantha knew she should have bitten her tongue last night. She let her fury control her, and it gave her mother a reason not to look at her for the last two days she was still in the country.

She headed for the bathroom. She didn't expect her maiden to come around any time soon, so she made her own bath. She had no idea how much of the bath salts she should pour into the bathtub. The same was with the bubble bath.

She made an imaginary note to thank Amanda for the amazing baths she always made. It became clear that Samantha was miserable without her.

Her worries left her for a little while when she sank in the hot water.

Since her mother locked her in, without food or water, she had to find other ways than horse-riding to savor her freedom. She entertained herself by reading her books - and did she have quite a collection. Yet, a few hours and books later her eyes hurt, and she couldn't focus enough to read anymore. Reality began to sink back in. Her eyes watered, but she wouldn't let even a single tear roll down her cheek. Not this time. Not yet.

And then her door opened.


End file.
